AWildSquirtle

Primality

@Ti Mary and John passing each other silently in the halls at rooster-o-clock every morning to get boiling hot caffeine.

Primality

@Aeolian Thanks for the banner! I'll try and incorporate into posts going forward!

@Scribe of Thoth Hopefully Avery is a coffee fiend and isn't all "Why is someone leaving this gross stuff in the dorm every morning???"

Primality

Mary Tarbell

Mary didn't wake up for class at the usual time as other students. Contrary to popular belief, roosters didn't crow with the dawn- but whenever they damn well pleased. It just so happened most of them did so at dawn. She was up and about at 5 in the morning, though took care to be quiet rolling out of bed. Her new roommate was definitely not on Farm Time and she did her utmost to not wake him at that early hour. It also gave her a bit of privacy with the mixed gender dorm.

There was a small stink raised when the room assignment came down, but it was more to see if the school would give her a private room than anything else. No luck there though. Doesn't bother me too much if it doesn't bother Avery. Try harvesting in the summer heat and worrying about who's looking where instead of heat stroke, see how far that gets you.

She was up, showered, and getting herself ready for the day within twenty minutes. The blazer, skirt and blouse were all school provided. The dark black leggings weren't on the approved list of clothing items, but they weren't on the banned list either. So long as the school didn't fight her on it she would always be wearing a pair of those. At least until everything healed.

Mary took her time to tie her rust-colored hair into a proper braid after drying it out, but makeup was a no-go. She hadn't packed any and the school didn't give any out for free. After quietly shutting off the fan and stepping out in her uniform, she checked her watch- 6 am.

What the heck am I gonna do with myself until assembly?

The answer was fairly obvious after thinking it over. First thing was first- be a good roommate. Mary shuffled into a pair of quiet flats and stepped out of the dorm before scurrying down to the cafeteria. The sound of the kitchen staff getting started for the day, turning on stoves and reading off menus was the only thing she heard in the halls as she stepped into the otherwise empty dining hall on the first floor of the dorms.

"Linda," she called into the kitchen as the smell of potatoes hitting the stovetop started to permeate the air. Her nose was fixed on something else entirely though. "Can I steal two coffees to go?"

Her morning fixer, Ms. Linda, was a muscled line cook in her thirties. She ran her side of the kitchen like a drill sergeant- but the two had hit it off when Mary had asked about the web of tattoos and the detail work running up Linda's arms.

"Coffee is for teachers," Linda grumbled from her station by the kitchen entrance. "Kids can't have any. Stunts your growth."

"But I'm eighteen. And adults can have coffee. Says so right in the student handbook."

Linda arched an eyebrow at Mary, setting down her knife and dumping another pile of soon-to-be hash browns on the stovetop. "Then why're you asking for two? Got a coffee date lined up?"

Mary sighed and stepped over to the fruit station, gathering up a pair of oranges and popped them into her blazer pockets. "Just trying to be a good roommate is all."

Linda pointed to one of the industrial-sized coffee makers by the refrigerators. "You're allowed to have one. I'm going to turn around and focus on my potatoes for the next sixty seconds."

If I don't see anything, then I can't narc on you. Part of the reason Mary got along with Linda so well; her willingness to let small transgressions go. She picked her battles.

Mary grabbed two coffees- one black, one with sugar- and scurried out of the cafeteria fast as she could, the disposable cups warming her hands as she left a wafting scent of coffee in her wake.

She paused at the dorm room, listened for any sound of Avery, and when she didn't hear the shower running or an alarm buzzing, opened the door. 6:30, on the dot.

Mary didn't bother waking Avery, not right away. The coffee would do that eventually and if it didnt, his alarm should. She left one cup for him and an orange along with the sugar packets. She swapped out her pair of flats for her "nice" shoes- a pair of black sneakers. She almost forgot to grab her tie but managed to snag that also, tossing it into her bag. Mary left with her own morning cup and orange, heading down to campus.

While other students were starting to roll out of bed, Mary perched herself at the big fountain outside the assembly hall, gathered up her sketchbook and pencil, and started working on a new image. She'd noticed the bird's nest in the elm tree on her first tour of campus. And as the first signs and sounds of activity started to emerge from the mess of twigs and leaves, she set to work sketching the cardinal that perched briefly on its edge...

Primality

Heyo! I'll try to have a post up in the next 24! Been meaning to join the discord as well- sorry I'm behind on all sorts of stuff @_@

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Aubri Silverblade

Hathforth Estate, Present Day

@HereComesTheSnow@Estylwen

It was said that the only thing worse than a city burning was a city being sacked. In both cases, whichever way the wind blew one could taste ash and smell gods knew what burning in the wind. Even though the castle the two children led Aubri and Amerigo to was tucked away from the inferno, the air and bricks of the citadel would doubtless be stained by the blaze for weeks.

The slow trickle of folk into the safety of the castle gates didn't go unnoticed by Aubri, either. Smallfolk and nobility alike were being allowed inside by the guards. Most highborn in foreign ports would open their doors only for the most powerful to take shelter within safe walls, banking favors for later in exchange for safety today. What did it say that the Queen was letting in everyone?

A lapse in security that the guards cannot hope to contain without a riot? Confidence in her power? True care for her subjects? Or does she have so few allies in the nobility she's hoping to rouse the smallfolk to her banner? Curious.

It reminded Aubri of one of the voyages aboard a family vessel. A day's sail from home port, their holds heavy with cargo, the sea took a turn for the worse- one of the few times his oldest brother had given consideration to abandoning ship. Another ship came up from the waves of the storm, foundering in the wake of a titan's wave. Pater had refused to cast lines and pick up the survivors, urging them to leave the drowning men behind. Later he argued it was too great a danger to cast anchor and try to save lives with the ship as heavily laden as it was. Aubri knew the calculating look in his father's eyes though. The man was worried more for a lost fortune if the vessel went down than more lost lives.

In the midst of his thoughts, Aubri looked up to see that he'd instinctually been following the children through the courtyard and halls. Aubri didn't take time to log the condition of the great hall and throne room. Its decorations, its armaments, the position of its guard posts and pages. If Amerigo did not, there would be time to assess those things later. Aubri was more focused on the action around them. Servants were bringing water up from a well somewhere to the people huddled within. Groups were still clustered together- petty and major nobles in one corner of the throne room, smallfolk and their children elsewhere.

He did note the empty throne though. Some things, by their absence, spoke volumes.

The Queen is away while her city burns and fiends from Dremora's Shade stalk its streets.

Within the war room, there was the same disorganized chaos, but with differing purpose. Outside, the focus was on recovery and recuperation. Here, the coming of frequent messengers relaying news that was minutes, even hours old. Knights in armor preparing to defend the keep, while one figure seemed to hold finals say over all action.

A woman. Tall, armored, well muscled, with hair the color of ash and dusk. And the one to whom the children were leading the two. Aubri began to remember his courtly tutor, a mental memory of the crack of a small whip hitting him between the shoulderblades and an wizened old woman cackling 'Stand straighter like the mizzenmast, or will you billow like a sail in the presence of your betters?'

He straightened. Took a moment to digest what was said to them by the armored woman. Gave himself several moments to think as though he was a dumb foreigner slowly parsing and translating her speech. 'Let them think you a fool at first. A fool hears more unguarded words than a wise man.'

Aubri's father paid a fortune for that crone's tutelage. Her one glass eye always seemed to find fault, and her motherly smile could cut as quick as any knife with the words it spoke. Maybe her advice and courtly tutelage was the best in the Republic, but here? It remained to be seen.

"Countessa, I greet you as Signore Aubri Silverblade, duly appointed envoy of the Most Serene Republic's Assembly of Notables. And this is my right hand, Brother of the Sea Amerigo Spadoni." Aubri left other descriptors of Amerigo - heroic, bravado prone, adventurous, deadly - out of the introduction, but shared a knowing grin with him nonetheless.

If Aubri knew his cohort half as well as he thought, Amerigo would likely be chomping at the bit to unsheath his sword and test himself against more fiends after their long journey at sea.

"We come seeking an audience with the fabled Wizard Queen regarding a matter of some import. A ship of the Republic has gone missing, the Golden Gale, last seen at port in Odonfield some weeks ago. We seek leave in discovering the ship's whereabouts."

No accusations. No threats. Not yet.

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

I'll try to have a post up by tomorrow evening!

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Aubri Silverblade

Lady Furino’s Estate, Castle Gardens, Present Day

@HereComesTheSnow@Estylwen

Aubri had barely begun gathering the two children into a jog before he heard that familiar sound. The quiet ring of the negating bone blade against the fabric of magic. It was faint- some said it was non-existent, a popular sailor's tale and nothing more. But real or imagined, he heard it. The ringing of the quietest note as dream met lucidity. And all at once, where there had been a hundred faces, a hundred voices, a hundred streams of spitting acid- there was ash.

Aubri slowed himself, ever mindful of the pointed edge of the sword in his hand and the place of the two children. Wouldn't that be something- Amerigo saves the day and I accidentally chop off someone's finger.

While Amerigo interspersed himself between the arguing children, Aubri struggled to sheath his blade. The damned curved steel was something he never could get used to. But as he tried once, twice, three times to get the thing sorted, it gave him time to think.

The queen is not here.

And these children know the queen is not here.

The children know there is some kind of rebellion afoot- which is more than we knew while aboard the ship.

Opportunity for reconnoitering outside the looting and the depths of the fire had presented itself. Best take the ship that was at port rather than waiting for another in whatever condition it might be in.

"I think taking shelter inside is wise and prudent. But we should be prepared to move at a moment's notice," Aubri said, giving Amerigo a knowing look. "One never knows which way the winds blow and where they may take the flames. Please, show us to this Lady Vernon."

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

I will try to have a post up tomorrow, Friday at the latest!

Smoke and Steel

Courtly intrigue? Pikes and pistols? Shenanigans?

Putting a pin in this!

Primality

Mary Tarbell, New Transfer!

Mary Tarbell

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^{Plant ◼ September 17th ( 18 ) ◼ Female}

_{"Life ain't fair. But you can MAKE it fair!"}

A P P E A R A N C E:

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Mary stands just shy of 5'5 which irks her to no end, though her grandma swears she still had plenty of growth left in her "Judging by yer great-aunts." Her hair is a messy blend of brown and red, barely kept in check when she braids it. Her hands have seen more than their share of farming accidents with small scars from finding her way around farm equipment running up and down her forearms. When not forced into a school uniform, she prefers to wear baggy cotton shirts, jeans, or overalls. While Mary often draws henna on her arms, she was finally able to get her first tattoo of a lavender plant in Albany with her savings- something her grandma still smacks her upside the head for doing.

B I O G R A P H Y:

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Mary Tarbell was born to Joseph and Alice Tarbell at 12:58 AM on September 17th, the day the family apple crop was due to be picked. Her mother often said she got right up 8 hours later and went to join her husband and the other farmhands to bring the crop in, with newborn Mary wrapped around her waist the whole time and she barely felt an ache in her body the whole time.

Mary called bullshit on this story by the time she turned 12, but her mom still tells it every chance she gets if anyone hasn't heard it.

Raised on a rural farm in upstate New York, Mary wasn't particularly well off, but she did have a family that cared about her, a roof over her head, and a grandma who was whip fast with a spoon to her knuckles if Mary ever came back from school with anything less than a B in any subject. Granny Tarbell was also the one to make sure that Mary kept her head just high enough to dream, but low enough not to get lost in the clouds. The Tarbell farm had been in the family hands for generations, since the founding of the nation, and it was expected that she'd carry on its tradition if her parents didn't or couldn't give her a sibling. Granny Tarbell's idea of dreaming bigger for Mary meant buying a few more fields and settling down with one of those nice boys from school.

Of course, tell any teenager that their life path has been chosen for them since their birth and you should expect a rebellion to ensue. Mary didn't (and still doesn't fully) know what she wanted to do with her life, but becoming another Tarbell farmer bringing in Apples from the orchard one season, cabbages from the fields another, and a few dozen eggs a week wasn't her idea of a storybook future. She did feel something stir within her every time she picked up a pencil and drew lines on paper, though. Her art teachers regularly pointed out that she showed more talent than most of her classmates, and there were summer programs that could be arranged for her- but the farm always had need of her. Mary started to protest and ask to attend any of these summer retreats when she made it through her freshman year. The shouting match went on for almost ten minutes before granny laid down the law and broke it up. For a while, her parents decided to let things lie and her mother even made a small peace offering by setting up a new flower garden for her on the front lawn when she noticed Mary was taking to drawing some of the wildflowers near the school bus stop in the margins of her notebooks.

Mary wasn't thrilled- her mother seemed to get the wrong message from snooping in her school books, but she let it slide and decided if she couldn't work with her parents to figure out this strange and exciting feeling, she would pursue her passion with the help of her school's guidance counselor. When a letter of acceptance to Corning Community College's early enrollment art program came in the mail, that was when the simmering conflict boiled over. What started as a calm chat about changing her major to agriculture, or even double majoring and selling "her arts" at the farmers market as a peace offering quickly exploded from the kitchen to the front lawn. The normally go-along-to-get-along Mary had had enough of her parents' dictates and stood her ground. She would graduate from High School. She would attend early enrollment classes over the summer. And she would go to a college- any college- to learn how to draw, paint, sculpt- to harness this feeling and create.

The neighbors were the ones to call 9-1-1 and get an ambulance to the property. Mary had two-dozen 1.5 inch rose thorns removed from her legs, her powers having manifested in the flower garden her mother had planted. Per state regulations, and with a little payback for providing fresh produce to the school at a reduced rate as recurring suppliers for close to two-hundred years, Mary Tarbell was enrolled in the Merryweather Institute after being discharged from the hospital.

P E R S O N A L I T Y:

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Mary holds a can-do attitude forefront in her mind. Farming is not easy or profitable (as her dad was always quick to remind her), which meant she would have to at least work through her problems with other farm hands when they weren't handling heavy machinery. Mary developed the skill to look for unorthodox, cheap, but effective solutions to problems in front of her.

But do not, under any circumstances, make decisions for her. Mary doesn't trust anyone- adults or other teenagers- to alter the course of her life in any way.

A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:

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Driver's license ("So what if it's for a tractor, I can still drive us all downtown for a night of fun and the cops can't do shit!") Animal ken ("You ever teach a barn cat how to hunt rats and not the escaped chicken?"). Uncontrolled plant growth ability ("I don't want to talk about it right now.")

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

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Mary is a bit of a writing experiment for me in the world of YA. I don't normally write teenage characters, so feel free to make suggestions for posts that might make her seem more realistic a character. I would also be interested in romantic sub-plots.